


you, lost and lonely

by Ejunkiet, the golden dears (Ejunkiet)



Series: rings and other gifts [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Discussions about choice and war, F/M, Post Time Skip, an unexpected gift too, soft and fluffy feelings, verdant winds, words are exchanged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/the%20golden%20dears
Summary: Five years, and yet here she stands, larger than life amidst the rubble, as if nothing has changed.--"Where have you been?" He'd asked at the summit of the goddess tower, taking in the dirt on her face and hair, the simple clothing she wore over tattered rags he couldn't help but recognise - he only half expected an answer."Somewhere dark," she'd replied, a shadow in her eyes, and he hadn't pressed for more.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Series: rings and other gifts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1604776
Comments: 8
Kudos: 176





	you, lost and lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Another Claudeleth love letter (expect more after I've gotten through the new dlc)!

Ethereal Moon. The long-awaited centenary of the founding of Garreg Mach and the dawn of a new millennium, marking a new chapter in the storied history of the church and country alike.

It's been five years since the attack that had seen the destruction of the tentative alliances holding Fòdlan together; five years since the arrival of the dragon and the collapse of the keep, when he'd watched his teacher and friend fall and be swallowed by the darkness that lurked beneath the monastery.

Five years, and yet here she stands, larger than life amidst the rubble, as if nothing has changed. 

_(She looked as if she has barely aged a day since he'd last seen her - he can't say the years have been as kind to most._

_"Where have you been?" He'd asked at the summit of the goddess tower, taking in the dirt on her face and hair, the simple clothing she wore over tattered rags he couldn't help but recognise - he only half expected an answer._

_"Somewhere dark," she'd replied, a shadow in her eyes, and he hadn't pressed for more.)_

He holds council in the ruined cathedral, surrounded by friends and allies alike. The knights of Seiros have returned to the monastery, and Garreg Mach has once more been declared a haven, taking in all who seek harbour regardless of their beliefs. He may not be a follower of the faith, but he can appreciate its values, see the strength in their community.

He waits as the company assembles before him, taking in the familiar faces, those that he’d expected and those that he hadn’t, the subtle changes brought about by maturity and time. 

He can see the impact of the war, the brittle countenance of those who’d come from the Kingdom, the lean hardness of the young nobles that governed the alliance. His deer are warriors now, sharpened by years of attrition, and it’s a tragedy, the loss of innocence, but also necessary for what is to come.

It’s Lorenz that speaks first, and Claude is hardly surprised. He’s taller, if that was possible, and grander - but he can see the signs of stress on him, knows his situation well enough to guess at the cause. 

“Why are we here, Claude?”

The eyes of the assembled turn to him, expectant. Looking for guidance, leadership. 

He thinks he’s finally ready for it.

“We’re here, my friends, to win the war.”

\--

The impromptu roundtable goes better than Claude had expected (Hilda’s interruptions aside), and as he watches the assembled graduates discuss what he’s proposed, he feels lighter, as if a burden has been lifted.

For the first time in five years, he feels as if he’s moving forward again, breaking through the stagnation that had paralysed the Alliance after the death of Duke. Now he thinks they might just have a chance in this war, even if it’s a slim one.

He hadn’t held back, laying (nearly) all of his cards on the table in plain view - better for them all to know, to understand - and this, this is new, he thinks, trusting like this, and it's freeing and terrifying all in the same breath.

"Are you with me?" He’d asked the group at large but his eyes were on his former teacher as the rest of the deer chimed in with their assent, waiting for her confirmation. "Teach?"

She smiles at the moniker and it softens her features, reminds him of their reunion at the goddess tower, and of the times before the war, when he was much younger and more naive.

"I am with you."

His heart trips in his chest, and he can believe it. He wants to believe it.

\--

They don't have much time, but there is time enough for this.

He waits until their company has broken up, splitting up into smaller groups for tea and further discussion, before he catches her eye, gesturing her aside with a gentle tilt of his head.

"Do you have a moment?"

Her brow quirks up and he can read the question on her lips, but she waits until he's lead them through the cloisters to the courtyard, their footsteps echoing on the cracked pavestones, before she asks it.

"Claude?" She glances at him, expression puzzled, the light strands of her hair dancing across her face glimmering in the setting sun, and it's still a shock to see it, the changes that had altered her appearance after she returned from the void.

"I thought we could use some air. Some space to think."

"For me, or for you?"

He smiles at that - she’d always been good at reading him, catching the underlying meaning behind his words. "I suppose it won't hurt to admit to a little of both."

He's stalling. He can't blame himself for that - it's been five years since they'd last seen each other, and what he's asking of her would be difficult for even the closest lifelong ally.

It's not a matter of trust - this would be easier if it were.

"Claude."

He takes in a short breath, holds it, watching her. She watches him back, just as astute, and he can’t sidestep the subject, no matter how much he wants to.

"We need you. I can't deny that. With you at m- _our_ side, we have a fighting chance, maybe enough of one to give us a hope of winning this war."

She opens her mouth to speak and he shakes his head.

"The cost of this fight so far has been great. We've all felt it, but perhaps you most of all. There will be more of it. I can promise you that, and… I can't demand that of you. I won't."

She watches him, expression unreadable.

"What makes you think I don't want to be here?"

"I just want to remind you that you have a choice."

He can't quite meet her eye after that, a heavy weight settling in his gut, the feeling that has been following him since their reunion - the sense that this, all this, is too good to be true.

The moment drags, the silence weighing heavily between them, and he regrets his timing. 

“You don’t have to answer now-"

"Claude." A gentle touch at his wrist, and he glances back up to meet her gaze, his breath catching at the clarity there. "I made up my mind long before this. It won't be changed now."

He exhales a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. He can't stop himself from asking, half-desperately - " _When?"_

She smiles, and it's a small thing, but it takes his breath away, even tinged with sadness. "Before the siege."

He thinks back, remembers the boy he was then - young and brash, so assured of himself and his perception of the world. He remembers their conversation in the entrance hall, of course he does - he'd meant every word, every single one - but what surprises him is that she remembers too.

"I made the decision to help you achieve your goals. If it's within my power, I will." 

Her jaw is set, determined, and this - this he can believe. Even if it defies belief. Teach always did have a way of surprising him.

He reaches for her hand, marvelling at the softness of her palm, the calluses worn smooth, and it’s as if she hasn’t handled a weapon in - well, years. He wonders again about what had happened to her in the time between now and their last meeting, and it's then that he remembers-

He pats the side of his jacket, eyes widening. Yes, he still has it.

He wasn’t going to do this now, not like this, but once the thought strikes him, he can’t shake it.

He reaches into his jacket, slipping his fingers into the hidden seam he’d sewn into the lining, and takes out a small bundle of wax paper and string. Handling the bundle with care, he holds onto it for a moment, feeling the weight of it, remembering the long nights he’d spent pouring over it, picking apart its secrets, looking for a hint, anything - before he offers it to her. 

“I never had the chance to return this after you leant it to me.”

He smiles as she takes it, his pulse heavy in his throat as he watches her carefully unwrap it, eyes widening as she recognises it.

“My father’s diary.”

Her fingers trace the cover carefully, almost as if she is afraid it’ll crumble away under her touch, and when her eyes meet his again, they are gleaming. The breath catches in his throat as he recognises the sheen of tears, sees her swallow heavily before she speaks, soft and quiet.

"You kept it all this time?”

“Knew you’d keep your promise, Teach.” He throws in a wink for good measure, and he can feel the blush rise on his cheeks as she returns his smile, warmth pooling in his chest, heating him from the inside out.

She reaches out to place her hand on his forearm and it’s a gentle touch, but her fingertips burn against his skin. 

“Thank you, Claude.”

She says it softly, and he can't help the way he reaches for her hand again, bringing it in close. His heart thunders in his chest and he wonders if she can hear it.

I missed you, he wants to say. It's too much, too soon, but the words press at his throat, and he has to struggle to swallow them back.

He lifts her hand, still wrapped securely within his, and presses a soft kiss to her knuckles.

"It's good to have you back, my friend." 

She glances up to meet his gaze, and her fingers tighten around his.

He's not sure how long they stand there like that, close in each other's space, before the door to the Cathedral clatters open to admit the familiar silhouette of Seteth. When her hand slips from his grip, he has to stop himself from reaching for it. 

He can still feel the warmth of her fingers on his skin as she turns away, and he can't help but call out after her.

"Until tomorrow, then?"

She pauses, looking back, and a small smile curves at her lips. "Until tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me at my tumblr (ejunkiet)!


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